


Feints and Truths

by issen4



Series: Feints and Go [2]
Category: Hikaru no Go
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-14
Updated: 2008-04-14
Packaged: 2018-02-22 00:49:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,952
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2488310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/issen4/pseuds/issen4
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ogata discovers why Kuwabara is retiring.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Feints and Truths

**Author's Note:**

> Sequel to Feints and Passes.

\-----------------

It was not until Akira approached him that he realised there really was something that he should not have missed.

Since his visit to Kuwabara's residence, Ogata had been haunted by the disconcerting notion that he had overlooked an obvious clue. He searched his memory but could not think of anything significant. He had heard of Kuwabara's retirement, and gone to ask the old man his reasons. He had been unceremoniously asked to leave at the end of the visit, but that didn't bother him as much as the lack of answers.

He re-visited in his mind the conversation he had with Kuwabara over and over again, but always come up empty. Well, empty but for the lingering resentment over being mocked--no, insulted--by Kuwabara. The old man seemed to know exactly what type of comments riled him the most, and clearly relished his reactions. 

"Excuse me, Ogata-san..." Akira said, standing at arm's length, as though reluctant to broach the invisible wall Ogata had commanded around himself since he sat down in the middle of the salon two hours ago.

Ogata pointedly did not shift in his seat in reaction to Akira's approach. Instead, he placed a stone deliberately in the goban before he looked up. It was not his habit to play Go in the Touya Go salon, but he was tired of spending the last two days at home with only his fish and for some reason, the Go Institute didn't feel appealing. 

_Maybe because the old man has retired_ , a corner of his mind whispered. Ogata squashed that line of speculation before it could ruffle his calm. Instead, he watched as Akira looked down, then away. His avoidance and obvious hesitancy surprised Ogata. "What is it?" he asked, remembering to soften his tone so that he sounded cool rather than impatient, which would not only have been rude, but would reveal to Akira his current state of mind, which was profound irritation.

It seemed that he was still steeling himself from Kuwabara's taunts, a week down the road.

Akira seemed to make up his mind all of a sudden, and looked full into Ogata's face for the first time, his expression determined. There was none of the shyness that Akira typically displayed when he was alway from the goban.

Unwillingly, Ogata admired the way Akira could go from zero to fighting in no time at all, even as he wondered at the reason--Akira wanted to challenge him to a game, perhaps--and this time, he sat up a little bit more and pushed his glasses slightly up his nose, knowing that the reflection off the lenses would look intimidating even to someone who knew him well. He had his dignity to think of, after all. He and Akira were going to meet in the Meijin finals and he didn't want to back down even an inch at this time.

But Akira did not seemed affected in the least. He hesitated no more and instead said, "I heard from Ichikawa-san that you're planning to remain here all afternoon."

That was true. "Yes, I plan to do that," Ogata replied. Ichikawa had been her usual chatty self, wondering aloud why he had turned up, and he had said that he was waiting for good opponents to turn up. 

Marginally true; a number of pros did frequent the Touya Go salon--though Ogata was thinking primarily of Shindou Hikaru, who would soon be along for his afternoon game with Akira. 

It struck him that it was still too early, though--Shindou usually didn't turn up till later in the afternoon--and with his schedule, Akira would not be at the salon so early either. "Is there anything wrong?" he asked. His hand fell away from the Go ke to rest on the table, relaxed.

"But-" Akira's fighting stance suddenly drained away, and he turned to look at the entrance at the Go salon--as he usually did when he was expecting Shindou--before turning back to face Ogata again. "Aren't you planning to-" he hesitated again.

Puzzled at the rapid way Akira's bravado had disappeared, Ogata found himself asking, "Akira-kun, what's going on?" He had said 'Akira-kun', he realised a moment later, and wondered why that -kun had slipped out.

"But today's the day of the surgery!" Akira said, his words coming out in a rush.

Ogata thought for a moment that he meant Touya Kouyo, and with that realisation came alarm, not to mention a hefty dose of confusion. "What surgery?" he asked. "I didn't know Sensei-" he stopped at Akira's expression, suddenly aware that he was horribly wrong.

Akira's face was pure dismay as he instantly grasped the meaning of Ogata's truncated statement. "No, not Father, but-" he said urgently.

The door to the Go salon opened at that juncture.

Shindou Hikaru entered, his face flushed; he must have run up the stairs, as usual. What was _not_ usual was that it was only noon, Ogata thought. No, that wasn't it. It was the way he didn't react to Ichikawa's greeting, but came directly towards them--towards Akira. No, not that either. The way Shindou was dressed, in a sedate button-up shirt instead of his vulgar-looking No. 5 T-shirts? No, too trivial a reason.

Ogata stared as Shindou came near, his eyes straining as he searched for the infinitesimal clue he knew must be there to explain the sudden uneasiness that rose in his mind.

Then Shindou was standing before him, and Akira immediately turned to him, twinning an arm around Shindou's in an obvious gesture of comfort. Shindou clutched at Akira's arm, seeking assurance. "We've got to leave now; the surgery's starting soon," he said. Fear made his voice shake. 

Ogata's uneasiness spiked, and in that moment of fierce anxiety, realisation came. "You mean Kuwabara," he said. He had always known that Shindou had grown close to Kuwabara over the years, the two of them communicating with exaggerated, disrespectful insults and casual Go games over drinks. That easy comraderie often rubbed him up the wrong way; why did Kuwabara judge this brat so highly? "Don't you."

His response seemed to shake Shindou from his fear, if only for a moment. He studied Ogata with suddenly thoughtful eyes and said, "He didn't tell you." 

Ogata was not sure if it was a question, a condemnation or an accusation. Without even realising he had stood up, Ogata found himself pulling Shindou to him by a fistful of white shirt. "What kind of surgery?" he asked.

"Let go!" Shindou struggled and pulled free. He retreated, smoothing down his shirt and pulling Akira back as well. Around them, the other customers were standing up, murmuring cries of dismay. 

"Ogata-sensei?" Ichikawa was there now. "What happened?"

Ogata ignored her. 

Shindou's voice, contrary to Ogata's expectations, lacked triumph. "You went to visit him," he said slowly. "But he didn't tell you."

"He told you." A feeling very much like jealousy raced through Ogata's gut.

"He wanted to tell you," Shindou said.

_But he didn't._ Ogata searched for, and found his self-control before he could lose his temper.

Ichikawa pushed herself through the crowd. "What's going on?" she asked. "Akira-kun?"

Ogata continued to look at Shindou through his glasses and repeated, "What kind of surgery?"

There was something almost pitying in Shindou's expression. "Stomach cancer," he said. "He was diagnosed only two weeks ago. It's the last stage."

Around them, customers gasped. Ogata could see, at the periphery of his vision, Ichikawa raising a hand to cover her mouth in shock.

"Hika- Shindou!" Akira turned to Shindou. "Kuwabara-sensei asked us to keep it quiet, remember?"

Shindou's expression briefly turned to one of horror, and he clapped both hands to his mouth with a loud 'twack'. That sickly moment of slapstick only made the shock so much worse. 

Ogata felt as though time had stopped. He recalled the visit to Kuwabara's residence. He had gone there thinking that he was going to beard the dragon in its cave, to demand from the irrasible old man the reason for the announcement of retirement. 

"We better go, Shindou," Akira said.

Ogata's mind made the observation that Kuwabara had been diagnosed with cancer and until today, he had not known.

The next minutes were a daze as he found himself in a taxi beside Akira as they headed towards a hospital, whose name he did not know, too.

Akira watched Shindou intently through the journey, his calm demeanor sobering even the taxi driver, who had given them a cheerful greeting when they got in, but was now regarding them with a neutral expression in the rearview mirror at regular intervals. They stopped outside a small private hospital that smelt mainly of antiseptic and, Ogata fancied, money. 

"Kuwabara-san," Shindou said when they walked inside the lobby and Ogata turned sharply to stare at where he was--rudely--pointing. To his disappointment, he saw a bespectacled man who looked to be in his thirties, before he parsed Shindou's greeting. Kuwabara-san, not 'Kuwabara-sensei' or 'old man'. And Kuwabara's wife had passed away years ago. 

'Kuwabara-san' walked up to them and inclined his head lightly in greeting. "Shindou-san, Touya-san, and-" he frowned.

"This is Ogata-san," Akira said.

"Ah, so you're Ogata-sensei!" Ogata found himself subject to an intent, critical--almost disapproving--visual survey from the stranger, then a swift bow. "I'm Kuwabara Hiro. I understand that you know my father."

So this was Kuwabara's son, who didn't play Go. Ogata had heard Kuwabara mention his son just once in the entire time they knew each other. "Yes," Ogata said, bowing in greeting. "I was troubled to hear of his illness." He marvelled at his own voice and how calm he sounded.

"Father always thought it'd be lung cancer, given the way he smoked," Kuwabara Hiro said, shaking his head. He eyed them all. "Thank you for coming. I would say something polite like the fact that you didn't have to," he continued, "but that would be dishonest. I know that if anything untoward happened in the operating theatre, he would be glad that he at least got to see you before he died."

Yes, it seemed a lack of sugar-coating platitudes characterised the son's speech habits as well.

Shindou swallowed, then piped, "So can we see him?"

Kuwabara Hiro nodded. "They'll be preparing him for the surgery soon. This way," he nodded towards the end of the corridor, inviting them to follow.

***

When Kuwabara Hiro finally knocked at the door of a hospital room and entered it, Shindou and Akira close behind him, Ogata only had time to read the nameplate 'Kuwabara-sama' before he found his legs bringing him into the painfully neat, modern room where a single bed had been arranged so that its occupant could look out of the window.

"Good afternoon, Kuwabara-sensei." That was Akira, polite as ever, in his usual tone. 

"Huh? You're dressed differently today, old man." Ogata heard Shindou say, his voice wavering between confusion and suppressed worry. 

Then Ogata heard the reply. "They made me wear this for the surgery, stupid. And aren't you supposed to greet someone first before you start making personal comments?" He felt himself give a start before he strode towards the bed, determined to see for himself.

Kuwabara Honinbou looked up as he approached, and for a moment Ogata could have sworn that there was real awkwardness in his gaze, before his wrinkled features arranged themselves in the shape of a smirk. "Ogata-kun! How kind of you to come and see me!"

Ogata felt a familiar vein in forehead beginning to throb at his voice. "Good afternoon," he said, pushing that irritation down. He was not going to be baited by Kuwabara this time. He was not going to let Kuwabara see how much he he had been affected by the sight of the visibly thinner man--after only a week--whose lack of traditional clothes seemed to render him a totally different person.

The voice was the same, however. "You sound as though you don't want to be here, Ogata-kun. What's the matter, were you tricked by Shindou-kun and Touya-kun to come here?" He laughed, the harsh sound grating on Ogata's ears.

"I was simply curious," Ogata said, inwardly pleased that his voice was steady. Cool, even. "After all, Shindou-kun is prone to exaggeration-"

"Am not!" Shindou protested. "Touya, old man, tell him I'm not!"

"Shindou, this isn't the time to start an argument."

"He's right," Kuwabara said. "Shindou isn't prone to exaggeration."

Shindou, gleeful: "Hah!" 

"He's prone to speaking the truth at highly inconvenient moments. Did Shindou let slip that I was here, Ogata-kun?" 

Ogata couldn't stand it any longer. With a sense of foreboding, he knew that he was about to lose his composure, as he always did in front of Kuwabara. He leant down so that he was looking directly at Kuwabara. 

"Yes? You have something to say, Ogata-kun?" Kuwabara asked pleasantly, not seeming the least intimidated.

"I had to find out from Shindou. I went to see you but you said nothing." His voice was beginning to get raspy. He cleared it and went on. "Did everyone know except me? Why didn't you tell me?" he said, and from the shocked looks from Shindou, Akira and Kuwabara Hiro, he realised that he had been shouting. The acoustics of the room were terrible; they made his own words echo back at him. His hands closed in tight fists.

Kuwabara made a show of considering his words. It was the same expression he gave to Ogata's Go at official games. "Not everyone knows, unless Shindou has managed to let his mouth run away with him again," he said. 

Ogata took a deep breath to calm himself, even as he registered the sound of Shindou's protest and Akira's effort at hushing him. Everyone knew that Kuwabara considered Shindou a kindred spirit, so naturally he-

"Isumi-kun knows too, of course," Kuwabara added.

Ogata recalled that he had met Isumi the day he went to visit Kuwabara. The younger pro had stared at him so strangely, with secrets in his eyes, that Ogata had resolved to find out for himself what those secrets were. But in the actual visit, goaded by Kuwabara, he had forgotten all about it. "Why didn't you tell me?" he asked again.

"You didn't ask." 

"I did!"

"You were asking about my retirement. You were distracted by my teasing. You didn't tell me the truth about why you want the Honinbou title. False calls to false, Ogata-kun." Kuwabara smiled, slit-eyed.

***

Kuwabara was recovering after the four-hour surgery and was not permitted visitors.

"He'll see me, we know each other-" Shindou grumbled, trying to shake free of Akira's hand on his. 

"Let him rest first," Akira said. "We can come again tomorrow."

"Uh... okay." Shindou said. "Kuwabara-san, we'll come tomorrow, then." He bowed.

"Thank you," Kuwabara Hiro said. "I'll keep you informed."

"Ogata-san?" Akira was approaching him, where he had been sitting for the last four hours. "We're going back now. Won't you come with us?"

Ogata forced himself to respond. After all, they said the surgery was successful. There was no need for him to be here any longer. "Yes," he said, then coughed, finding it hard to speak through dry lips. "Yes, I will." He followed them to a taxi and was silent until he realised that he was sitting down in the living room of Shindou's apartment near the Go Institute. 

From somewhere, Shindou offered him tea. "Thank you," he said automatically and drank, wondering why Akira said, "Wait, Ogata-san!" He scalded his tongue, and that was when he realised he had been in a daze since they left the hospital.

He also realised that he had not taken leave of Kuwabara Hiro. 

It was unthinkable. He had never forgotten his manners like that before, and was conscious of a hideous feeling of having over-exposed himself. Then again, Kuwabara's words to him, spoken just before the nurses came in to take him to the operating theatre--it seemed that excellent timing still favoured Kuwabara--had already revealed more what than Ogata wanted about him. And the worst of it was that he couldn't deny that Kuwabara was right. He had been so intent on pushing Kuwabara's taunts away that he had not cared to ask what was wrong. Nor had he told the truth. 

He realised that the sounds of soft conversation between Shindou and Akira had ceased, and he looked up.

"Ogata-san, are you all right?" That was Akira.

_No._ "Where was Isumi?" he asked. "If he cared so much, why wasn't he there?"

Shindou gave him a perplexed look, as though wondering why he was asking about Isumi all of a sudden. "Isumi went earlier this morning," he said. "He has a game with Oshima 6-dan in the afternoon..." Shindou peered at his watch. "It should be ending soon."

Ogata tuned out the rest of Shindou's words. "Who else knew?" he asked.

"-he said he'll have his mobile phone on... Huh?"

"I said, 'Who else knew?' About the surgery."

"Well... just me and Akira. And Isumi. And Araki-san," Shindou named the president of the Japanese Go Association. "And now you. And the customers at the Go salon just now... so it's everybody now."

"Why didn't he tell me?" He didn't realise that he was shouting again, and forced himself to stop. He took off his glasses and wiped them with a handkerchief, before putting them on again. His vision looked even more bleary now; he had smeared the lenses instead of cleaning them. He took off his glasses again and dropped them on the table.

Shindou jumped at the clatter, and despite his poor vision Ogata caught him and Akira exchanging worried glances. His anger dissipated. Somehow his fingers came up to massage the area between his eyes.

"He... really wanted to tell you." Shindou sounded apologetic, as though trying to make amends on Kuwabara's behalf. 

Ogata could have told him that it was unnecessary. But then Shindou had always treated Kuwabara with a mixture of bravado and real, if noisy affection. "But he didn't."

"I thought at first that he did." It was Akira who spoke, and Ogata looked up in surprise. He felt for his glasses but didn't put them on as Akira continued. "Have you ever heard him say, 'Go is a game played by two people'?"

" 'Go is a game played by two people'?" Ogata repeated. It sounded too simple to be something that the twisty-minded old pro would say. Of course Go was played by two people. Go was a game where two players would pit their skills and grasp of strategy. It was a game where two people sought to create the best game ever, something that was possible only when both players played with not just their minds, but their hearts as well. "I... see," he finally said.

"Ah," Akira said.

Ogata put his glasses back on.

***

"Ogata-kun," Kuwabara said. "What a nice surprise!"

Ogata mustered himself, and sat down beside the bed. "Kuwabara-sensei," he said formally. "How are you feeling today?"

Kuwabara lifted a hand and waved at the end of the bed. "Feel free to check my chart," he said, knowing very well that Ogata did not understand what the chart said. "But the surgery bought me some time, if you must know."

There would be other treatments to undergo, Ogata knew, and the best they could do was to buy Kuwabara more time. "Well, then we can use that time for a game," Ogata said, nodding at the magnetic Go set Shindou had left on the bedside table. "Don't think you're going to get out of playing with me just because you've retired." 

Kuwabara smirked. "Someone is cocky today. So you and Isumi-kun have been decided as the final challengers?"

In lieu of Kuwabara defending the Honinbou title himself, two challengers were picked from the Honinbou league to fight it out. Ogata had never doubted that he would be a final challenger--or to be more accurate, _the_ final challenger--but the fact that he would be facing Isumi Shinichiro brought a new dimension to his quest for the title.

"Yes, it was decided after I defeated Sakai 7-dan yesterday." There was a part of him that wanted to ask who Kuwabara favoured. After all, it was known that Kuwabara's favourite opponents, other than Shindou, who was more of a mentee than an opponent, were Isumi and him. _No. Too embarrassing_.

Kuwabara gave him a look, and Ogata froze, certain that the old man had read his thought. "The first game will be next month," he said quickly. "We'll be playing in Okinawa."

"Ah. Great beaches." Kuwabara leered at him. "Maybe this time you'll meet a nice girl there, Ogata-kun."

"Old man, it's none of your-" He stopped in horror as Kuwabara's hands rose to describe what looked like an hourglass in the air. "-business," he finished weakly. 

"Oh, but Ogata-kun. It's not good for someone who dresses like you to be a bachelor for so long. All kinds of rumours start to fly. So terrible for a man of your reputation..."

Ogata knew he would regret asking, but: "What kind of rumours?"

"The kind that wonders why you're so concerned about Isumi-kun's performance in the Honinbou league-"

"That's nonsense!" Ogata burst out.

Kuwabara started to laugh softly.

Aware that he had been baited again, Ogata glared at him. If this had been in the past, he would have retorted something about an old man who was senile enough to manufacture rumours for his own entertainment. But Kuwabara wasn't senile, just manipulative. Ogata found that his taste for this sort of retort had changed in the past few weeks.

"I heard that you're single again, by the way. It lasted for only two weeks?"

How the old man knew so much when he was lying on a hospital bed was beyond Ogata's understanding. Ogata glared.

"Those unfashionable white suits and red sports car aren't going to work forever," Kuwabara went on, unabashed. "You'll have to step up your charm if you want to keep a woman, Ogata-kun. Then you wouldn't get dumped all the time."

"I've never-"

"Presents, Ogata. Women like that kind of thing. Maybe a branded handbag or two?"

"You-"

Kuwabara pretended to think, "I'm not sure I've told you about the time I bought my wife a silk kimono-"

Ogata had heard the story, told in his previous visits. "You did." 

"A string of the most exquisite cultured pearls-"

"You did."

"A hideously expensive, yet still hideous diamond neck-"

"You did."

"A two-week holiday to Europe-"

"You did, and stop irrita-"

"A goban."

Ogata stared at Kuwabara for a long time. Of all the things he expected Kuwabara to say, he had not expected the last. "Say that again," he said.

Kuwabara obliged, and looked extremely satisfied with Ogata's reaction, which was no doubt the old man's purpose.

"You bought your wife a goban." Ogata felt there was something wrong with the idea. "I thought you said she didn't know how to play Go."

"I taught her." Kuwabara looked thoughtful for a while, raising his hand to stroke his beard. "She was terrible at it. She didn't have the analytical mind. And no strategic skill at all."

"Then-"

"She was my wife," Kuwabara said, his gaze going to the magnetic Go set. "The best things in life should be shared." 

_Go is a game played by two people_.

Ogata allowed the moment to fade, before he reached out, took the Go set and placed it on the meal table between them. "You're right," he said. "Shall we play?"

\-------------(END)---------------


End file.
